I agreed to do so, and accordingly devoted
my Sundays to teaching these my loved fellow-slaves how to read. Neither
of them knew his letters when I went there. Some of the slaves of the
neighboring farms found what was going on, and also availed themselves
of this little opportunity to learn to read. It was understood, among
all who came, that there must be as little display about it as possible.
It was necessary to keep our religious masters at St. Michael's
unacquainted with the fact, that, instead of spending the Sabbath in
wrestling, boxing, and drinking whisky, we were trying to learn how to
read the will of God; for they had much rather see us engaged in those
degrading sports, than to see us behaving like intellectual, moral, and
accountable beings. My blood boils as I think of the bloody manner in
which Messrs. Wright Fairbanks and Garrison West, both class-leaders, in
connection with many others, rushed in upon us with sticks and stones,
and broke up our virtuous little Sabbath school, at St. Michael's--all
calling themselves Christians! humble followers of the Lord Jesus
Christ! But I am again digressing.
I held my Sabbath school at the house of a free colored man, whose
name I deem it imprudent to mention; for should it be known, it might
embarrass him greatly, though the crime of holding the school was
committed ten years ago. I had at one time over forty scholars, and
those of the right sort, ardently desiring to learn. They were of all
ages, though mostly men and women.
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